


Jelly Baby

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 23:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: hc: scully is the silliest cuddliest drunk





	Jelly Baby

For the past hour, her head has been inclining towards his shoulder in increments punctuated by delicate sips of pinot grigio. The movie is just background entertainment now: the occasional boom of action, the occasional shimmering of lights, the soaring score. 

“Time for bed,” he says, when her head bumps the juncture of shoulder and arm. In no time, her head is crooked there, face pressed against pec. She snuffles and then giggles.

“You’ve got lovely tits, Mulder.”

On screen, a woman is undressing and whilst Scully’s accuracy is usually spot-on, he has to disagree.

“No, really,” she says, rubbing through his shirt. “Your nipples are always so…” she scrunches her nose and lifts her head away slightly so he can see the glaze in her eye, “so…tight, and the way there’s just this sort of mound of flesh that I can hold, it’s like…” her voice trails off. She pushes herself up and he feels the cool of singledom again. “I mean, boobs are lovely, aren’t they?”

She whips off her top and in that practised way pulls off her bra. She lifts her own breasts, massaging them, to prove her point. It’s working.

“Scully, I think you’re a little tipsy.”

She falls against him and circles his nipple again, then kisses through the cloth. They can’t harden any more. It would be against medical advice. “Scully…”

“Mmm, I love the little nubs of them, the way they peek out of your dress shirts. That used to drive me wild back in the day, Mulder. Skinner always used to side-eye me. He knew, you know. He saw them too.” She leans up to kiss his mouth, taking away his cluck of disbelieve. Her arms fall around his waist and she’s managed to climb into his lap. She giggles suddenly. “I think he has a soft spot for you Mulder. Old Walter Sergei, manly man, loves his little Foxy.”

There’s no escape. Wine is the greatest enemy. She clings and moulds and trembles and sticks like that Goop-O 123 or ABC or whatever, she’s a gelatinous, edematous, viscous pleasure all over his skin and he’s not going to complain.


End file.
